


Atlas

by pinkwinwin



Category: NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mythology References, Police state, Possible Character Death, Science Fiction, Unhappy Ending, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin
Summary: "I want to bring you home," Jaehyun whispers. Seokmin gives him a sympathetic smile and pulls his hand out of Jaehyun's grip, instead pressing it just over his heart."I am home," he replies. "Right here with you."(or, Jaehyun wants to give Seokmin a map of the stars. He never gets the chance.)





	Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very loose interpretation of the song "Camisado", my song for 97! at the Disco fest. I really resonated with the hospital motifs and the general theme of the repeating lines "Can't take the kid from the fight/Take the fight from the kid". The rest of it may be a bit....loose on the interpretation side, so please remember those two lines as you read.  
> As always, please enjoy!  
> #

If there was one thing Jaehyun hated more than anything in what was left of this world, it was hospitals.

 

He hated the way they smelled, how the walls seemed to close in on him, how he felt the urge to fight whenever he stepped foot in one. But most of all, he hated the implications. . Hospitals meant injury, of prodding needles and people invading your space. Sometimes it meant death.

 

And if there was one thing Jaehyun wouldn't succumb to, it was death.

 

He remembers a time when he was young, barely tall enough to peek over the side of a hospital bed, that he watched his father wither away to nothing. It was claustrophobic, the way the room began to swallow his father as much as the illness did. His skin was as pale as the machinery he was hooked up to, hand as dry as the plaster on the too-white walls. It was like the very concept of modern medicine itself took Jaehyun's father from him, and for that he never trusted the institution since.

 

He trusts nothing, quits school (he can't afford it anyway, not without his father), and sells what little belongings the two of them had and pockets the money. He slips out of their dump of an apartment three days after his father's death, avoiding the police raids on his run-down neighborhood by mere hours. None of this will be important someday.

 

He's on the street by nine. He's taken in by another group of lost boys by eleven. He knows how to use a knife by thirteen. He kills his first man at eighteen. All of this will be important someday.

 

Jaehyun is twenty when he first needs stitches, and Mingyu shoves a rag in his mouth to keep him from screaming while Minghao threads the skin of his shin back together with a sewing needle. There's no other option—Jaehyun doesn't trust hospitals, sees no need for them.

 

This time was different. This time was far more painful.

 

It’s difficult when the one you love is practically knocking at death’s door, but it’s even more painful when he’s in a place where he can do absolutely nothing to help. He wasn't hooked up to machines or under the knife, not by any means. Jaehyun wouldn't let the nurses touch him, slipping out of their helping hands like a scared animal and insisting there was someone far more in need of their skills. Jaehyun looks on in a subtle weariness to mask his panic, his scratched arm cradled into his chest and bruises lining his neck and jaw. There's a half dozen bodies rushing around a hospital bed in the center of the room, and Jaehyun looks on from the shadows. He looks on from safety, from the only home he's known.

 

_("Hey Jaehyun, we don't gotta worry about them findin' us, right?"_

 

_Jaehyun smirks, pressing a kiss to the tanned skin of his temple._

 

_"I've got you, baby. Always.")_

 

But he doesn't have him, not at all.

 

There's far too many tubes and IVs strapped to his body and, _oh God_ , his heartbeat is being monitored by _machines._ He hates this, he hates feeling powerless. There's a thousand ways for Jaehyun to fight himself out of a situation, to keep Seokmin safe with a knife to the throat of some rival gang or a pistol to the temple of someone getting far too curious about their work, but there's no fighting this.

 

There's no fighting, there's just empty walls and beeping machines that taunt Jaehyun into the late hours of the night. He sleeps in a chair pulled as close to the bed as he can possibly get, angled towards the door to see anyone coming in. He can see the soldiers stationed across the hall, standing in their black uniforms with their weapons resting heavy across their chest. Jaehyun finds himself falling asleep with his hand on the knife in his pocket.

 

Some habits never change.

 

_(The skies are a little clearer here, the remnants of old builds scraping the clouds on stormy nights. Even tucked away in a lesser populated areas of the city, they don't risk turning any overhead lights on in the old warehouse. They don't need to, with the way that the moon showers the two of them in beams of silver when they sit on the windowsill. Seokmin likes to dangle his leg off the ledge, getting as much of the summer breeze as he can muster._

 

_Jaehyun loves nights like this, where he can tuck Seokmin's shoulder under his chin and wrap his arm around his chest, pulling him as close as he can manage._

 

_Living like this has its perks, he figures.)_

 

Things get easier for Jaehyun to handle once Seokmin is awake, but that's only because he has someone to hold him accountable. He still hovers when doctors and nurses prod him with needles, but Seokmin merely smiles and presses his hand to Jaehyun's arm. He doesn't miss the way that Seokmin mutters an apology to the nurse who checks his vitals, her hands shaking under the glare of the imposing man in the corner of the room.

 

If Jaehyun is fire, Seokmin is the water that douses him when he gets too far out of control.

 

Days pass and nights come, leaving the two of them alone in the hospital room. It's when Seokmin can reach his hand out and give him a smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle with affection. Jaehyun wants to take him out of here, to leave this horrible place of prying eyes and whispers in the hallway behind, but he has to find contentment in pressing his lips to the back of Seokmin's hand.

 

"I want to bring you home," Jaehyun whispers.

 

Seokmin gives him a sympathetic smile and pulls his hand out of Jaehyun's grip, instead pressing it just over his heart.

 

"I am home," he replies. "Right here with you."

 

_(Getting home from a night out always injects adrenaline straight into Jaehyun's system, and he finds it difficult to sleep. He dumps his supplies in his room, unloading his pistol and dagger on the desk by his door. He rolls back his shoulders, stripping off his leather jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair. Jaehyun can hear Mingyu and Minghao’s voice mingle with Seokmin’s, and it makes a smile tug at his lips._

 

_Seokmin follows suit, entering their bedroom and closing the door behind him. He kicks off his boots and drops his weapons on the desk. There’s a cut on his brow where the knife of some poor mobster desperate to save his own hide sliced through Seokmin’s face, fresh blood beading at the surface of his skin._

 

_“Ouch,” Jaehyun mumbles, taking a fresh tissue and pressing it to the skin. He cradles Seokmin’s face gently, pressing the cloth to the wound and rubbing his thumb against Seokmin’s cheek._

 

_“Guess I’m not so pretty anymore,” Seokmin says, crooked smirk tugging at his lips. It makes Jaehyun frown, pulling Seokmin’s face closer to his own._

 

_“You’re always pretty,” he replies firmly, kissing him deeply. The rag is discarded off to the side, instead Jaehyun runs his fingers through Seokmin’s hair. Their kiss is eager and passionate, and Jaehyun soon finds himself tugging Seokmin to their bed._

 

_The window above them is open, the stars shining against the black night and looking on in interest.)_

 

The day finally comes when Seokmin is released, and the excitement of it all surges through Jaehyun’s body like a live wire. He hardly sleeps the night before and by the time the paperwork is signed and the nurse gives them approval, Jaehyun practically carries him to the car himself. What little belongings they have are thrown into a single duffle bag in the trunk, and Jaehyun tucks Seokmin in carefully to the passenger seat before throwing himself haphazardly into the driver's side, peeling out of the parking lot and screeching down the street.

 

Despite his protests, Jaehyun carries Seokmin into the house himself, and the relief of finally being in a safe place washes over Jaehyun like a wave. Minghao and Mingyu are there to greet them, welcoming Seokmin back with open arms and reassuring him that everything was fine now, that the house had been safe while they were gone and the patrols still hadn’t reached that part of the city.

 

Seokmin visibly relaxes at this, letting his anxiety melt away. Jaehyun wishes he could be as fortunate.

 

He thinks of the officers stationed on every floor of the hospital, their guns drawn and eyeing every person who steps out into the hallway with disdain. He thinks of how vulnerable his own home was without him, how at any moment the police could pull up to what’s left of this worn-down warehouse and drag his closest friends into the back of a squad car. Minghao and Mingyu were good fighters, sure, but the two of them couldn’t be expected to take on that kind of force alone. Jaehyun should be there, protecting the ones he loves.

 

Living in a police state was nothing new to Jaehyun, but it was times like this, when looking at Seokmin laugh along with their friends, that leaves a particularly bitter taste in his mouth.

 

_(One of Jaehyun’s favorite routines with Seokmin is their late night reading sessions, where Jaehyun rests his head in Seokmin’s lap and he closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Seokmin’s voice. He reads from any book that they have on their shelves, a collection carefully crafted from years of Jaehyun stealing them from missions. After a while Jaehyun sits up, kisses Seokmin’s forehead, and slips downstairs to the kitchen to make them a late night snack. He remembers one night when Seokmin follows him, bare feet padding against the cold floor and book nestled close to his chest._

 

_“You don’t have to stay down here, you know,” Jaehyun says with amusement, grinning at the way Seokmin cradles the book carefully as he sits on the kitchen counter._

 

_"I know, I wanna watch you," Seokmin says quietly, swinging his legs and tilting his head at Jaehyun. He laughs and goes to the pantry, producing two packages of dried noodles and tossing them on the counter. He takes a pot from the cabinet below the stove, twirling the handle once and wagging his eyebrows at Seokmin, who laughs unabashedly. His nose scrunched up and his eyes crinkle in the corners, and Jaehyun smiles fondly as he starts their midnight meal._

 

_It's quiet for a moment, only the sound of quietly boiling water and a metal fork stirring between them. Seokmin has turned his gaze to the book in his lap, brushing his hands over the surface. It's his favorite one Jaehyun has gotten him, one on Greek mythology. His fingers glide across the bookmark, marking his favorite story of Atlas they were reading only minutes before._

 

_"Hey Jaehyun," Seokmin says, still looking at the book. Jaehyun glances at him for a moment before turning back to cooking._

 

_"Yeah, baby?"_

 

_He looks at Jaehyun fully now, his eyes shining from the overhead light of the stove. "Do you ever think about what you'd wanna be?" He asks, pushing the sleeves of his sweatshirt up and balancing the book on his knees. "If it were different?"_

 

_Jaehyun turns the stove down, knitting his brows and thinking for a moment. "Have you?"_

 

_Seokmin looks at the cover of the book again, the night sky sketched in faded gold on the cover. He turns his gaze to the window across the kitchen to the dark night sky._

 

_"I wanna study the stars.")_

 

Jaehyun's favorite sanctuary is his bed, where he can drag himself and Seokmin after a work mission and sleep off whatever horrors the day had provided them.

 

This time is different, as Jaehyun returns home to find Seokmin already in bed, sheets pooled around his waist as he lays there with a book open. The sight of it brings a wave of peace over Jaehyun, and he can only think about threading his fingers through Seokmin’s hair as he reads. There's a lantern on the floor by the bed, it's dim yellow bulb turning only the direct area next to the bed a bit brighter than the room surrounding them.

 

Jaehyun never likes to take chances.

 

"Welcome home," Seokmin says, lifting half off the bed and reaching his hand forward. Jaehyun leans down and connects their lips in a kiss, Seokmin's large hand threading through his sweaty hair. Jaehyun peels off his jacket, careful not to break the kiss, and tosses the worn leather garment to the floor. Seokmin pulls away and tries to help undress Jaehyun, but his fingers fumble clumsily against the fabric without making purchase. Jaehyun clasps both of Seokmin's hands in his own, pulling them to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

 

"It's okay, baby," Jaehyun says, trying to keep his voice kind when he feels the painful twist in his chest. He sees Seokmin's smile falter.

 

"Doc said it would be hard to do stuff with my hands for a while," he replies sheepishly, pulling his hands back into his lap. Jaehyun reaches out and smooths back Seokmin's hair, fingers brushing against the base of his head where the nurses shaved him before surgery. His touch is featherlight against the healing incision, almost ghostly against the skin.

 

"I know," Jaehyun whispers, giving him a pained smile. "It'll be okay."

 

Seokmin turns his attention to the book tucked in the pilled and frayed bed covers. "I have your favorite story ready."

 

Jaehyun grins, unlacing his boots and tucking them off in a far corner of the room. "Yeah? You gonna read to me?"

 

Seokmin laughs, tilting his head back slightly. Jaehyun can see the moonlight illuminate his sharp features, looking more sallow than usual. "Yeah, I'm gonna read."

 

Jaehyun changes out of his bloodied clothes, making sure to ball them up in the corner of the room to be washed tomorrow morning. He returns in a moment wearing a worn t-shirt and hole-riddled flannel pants, their edges torn and frayed. It's comforting to feel the sensation of well-loved fabric against his skin—but Jaehyun truly feels comforted when he slips into bed and Seokmin immediately snuggles into his side with the book angled upwards so he can read.

 

They spend the night reading the story of _Atlas_ , of the Titan cursed to hold the sphere of the heavens up for all eternity. Seokmin's voice is steady and quiet as he reads, tucked in the crook of Jaehyun's arm. He listens as Seokmin tells him the familiar tale, watches as his fingers trace the illustration on the page, dancing across the stars.

 

That night, Jaehyun dreams of a man on one knee, holding up the sky.

 

_(They don’t work with Minghao and Mingyu on many assignments, but there are exceptions to every rule._

 

_The two of them sit on the hood of Jaehyun’s car, parked far enough away from the makeshift headquarters of a drug running organization that they won’t be seen but close enough to know when the rest of their backup arrives. Seokmin’s chin sits on Jaehyun’s shoulder, nose brushing into his hair ever so slightly._

 

_“What are you thinking about?” Jaehyun asks, and chuckles when Seokmin huffs out a breath._

 

_“How do y’know I’m thinkin’,” Seokmin mutters in reply, warm breath against the shell of Jaehyun’s ear. He wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and pulls him close, fingers brushing against the dagger strapped to his belt._

 

_“I just know,” Jaehyun says, leaning into Seokmin’s grip. “So tell me.”_

 

_“What would you wanna be? If you could be anything.” Jaehyun thinks for a moment, looking up at the stars and tracing patterns in them. He thinks of the collection of books tucked away at home, their favorite hidden under Seokmin’s pillow. The answer comes easier than he’d expected._

 

_“I’d want to learn about Greek mythology.”)_

 

Jaehyun finds Seokmin sitting on the floor in their bedroom one night. In front of him is a mirror leaning against the wall, half-covered by jackets and worn-in baseball caps that rest on its corners like a makeshift coat rack. He’s making faces in the mirror, but his face isn’t responding the way it used to. Jaehyun kneels down behind Seokmin and notices the way the left side of his face doesn’t raise as high anymore when he smiles, how the scar running from his hairline, across his eye and stretching towards his top lip has pulled the skin tight.

 

He only needs to look at the reflection of Seokmin’s eyes to sense the pain.

 

“What are you doing that for?” Jaehyun whispers, smoothing down Seokmin’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Seokmin stares on in the mirror, giving a smile that drips of sadness.

 

“Guess I’m not so pretty anymore,” Seokmin whispers, and Jaehyun feels something reach up into his ribcage and squeeze his heart. He turns Seokmin to face him, cupping his face in his hands.

 

“Baby, don’t say that,” he replies, trying to keep his voice firm but it’s shaky, so fragile at the thought of hurting the person in front of him. He kisses him slow, pulling away just enough to whisper “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re so pretty,” in between each kiss.

 

_(There’s something about fighting that’s like a dance, the way you move your body to compliment another’s, how each blow is carefully planned out on your partner, how it races hot in the blood of your veins._

 

_Jaehyun always took the time to admire Seokmin in a fight, even if just for a moment._

 

_They’ve infiltrated the warehouse, taking the drug runners by surprise and engaging in an all-out battle. There’s only six of them, and Jaehyun knows there’s plenty of power between them for this to be an easy job. He knows Minghao is in the rafters somewhere, training the sight of his gun on the leader and trying to get a good shot. Mingyu is pulling his hand back in a fist, launching himself forward and taking down the big man with more tattoos than unmarked skin in the corner of the room. Jaehyun lets the unconscious body between his arms slump to the floor, choking him out just enough to put him under._

 

_He doesn’t like killing around Seokmin if he doesn’t have to._

 

_But for Seokmin, this is more than just a fight. It’s an art form, how he slips between two enemies and unsheaths his dagger before plunging it into the back of one of them. With enough force he pulls the blade out and lets the man fall while using that trajectory to lunge towards the other. During the tussle, Jaehyun sees another man sneak behind a pillar and reach for the gun in the waistband of his jeans. He’s not looking Jaehyun’s direction, so it gives him the perfect chance to come up behind him and slam the man’s head into the concrete pillar, dropping his body like a dead weight onto the floor._

 

_Jaehyun glances around the pillar just as Seokmin brandishes the blade against the man’s throat. Seokmin wasn’t one for intimate kills such as this, preferring to keep as far away from the enemy as possible, but in moments like these, they take all they can get. There’s enough distance between Seokmin and the man that Jaehyun feels confident enough to reach for his gun, clicking off the safety and walking towards the man._

 

_“You’re out of options,” Jaehyun mutters darkly, and the man’s head jerks towards the sound of his voice. Jaehyun figures he can subdue the man, get him to talk about the whereabouts of the rest of his crew. He motions with a tilt of the head for Seokmin to back off, put his weapon away and help Minghao get the records they’ve come here to get. Jaehyun focuses on the man at his feet, kneeling on the ground with his hands behind his head in defeat._

 

_It’s why he doesn’t see what happens next._

 

_It’s Minghao shouting, that much he can figure. Somewhere above them a voice calls out urgently, and Jaehyun looks up just as the crowbar comes down hard on the back of Seokmin’s head and he crumples to the floor._

 

_It’s the same runner that slipped out of Mingyu’s grasp, and he’s already reaching up to hit him again when Jaehyun shoots. He shoots and he shoots, the recoil making his aim hasty but it gets the job done. The man is dead before he hits the ground, and Jaehyun can’t tell who’s screaming until he drops beside Seokmin and realizes it’s him. He cradles Seokmin in his grasp, screaming wildly for his friends, for help, for God._

 

_He screams for something he doesn’t even believe in. All of this will be important someday.)_

 

Jaehyun lays in bed, the covers draped over the two of them. He glances over and sees Seokmin asleep, hair in his eyes and shoulder laying bare to the cool air of the room. He reaches out and gently pulls the sheets over him, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. He pulls away and can make out the faintest hint of a smile on Seokmin’s lips.

 

That night, Jaehyun dreams of Atlas. Something unseen makes him stumble, falling onto one knee from where he stood moments before.

 

The heavens come tumbling out of his hands. The stars fall— and then, silence.

 

_("Hey Jaehyun, we don't gotta worry about them findin' us, right?"_

 

_Jaehyun tries to speak, but the words catch in his throat.)_

 

Their first job after Seokmin returns is a group one, with Minghao and Mingyu assuring that this wouldn’t be too much of a strain. Seokmin’s hands still shake when he tries to hold a knife and he can’t reload as gun as fast as he used to, but Jaehyun assures him he’ll make a great lookout. He doesn’t want Seokmin to risk being out on the frontlines of the action, the scene being too much for him only a few months after a major traumatic injury. He thinks back to the night before, when Seokmin cradled his face and insisted he would be okay, and that tender look was the end of Jaehyun’s protest. He lets their friends slip out the back door first, sneaking close to Seokmin as they head to the car and pressing a kiss to his temple.

 

The smile on Seokmin’s face that blossoms in response is all Jaehyun needs to keep going.

 

The drive doesn’t take long, Minghao had scouted the perfect route days beforehand. They drive on back streets and low-lit alleys barely wide enough for Jaehyun’s car, Minghao’s motorcycle zips through the space easily, red glow of the tail lights leading the way. They eventually end up at the port at the west end of the city, shipping containers stacked four units high and making an imposing skyline.

 

Minghao pulls behind one of the containers, parking his motorcycle and letting Mingyu hop off the back. They rest their helmets on the seat, giving Jaehyun enough space to pull up alongside them and park. Minghao already has the trunk of Jaehyun’s car open by the time he and Seokmin step out, unpacking and loading his sniper rifle in the low light of the moon.

 

“Meeting’s supposed to go down at midnight, we’ll intersect them,” Mingyu tells Jaehyun and Seokmin, hand instinctively reaching out and catching the round of ammunition that Minghao tosses his way. He pulls out the gun tucked in his breast pocket, loading the weapon and turning it in the moonlight. It shines ever so slightly, and Jaehyun’s eyes are trained on it for a minute before responding.

 

“Right,” Jaehyun considers. “How many?”  
  
  
“Four,” Minghao says, closing the trunk and walking over to the group. “Couple of low hanging fruit, nothing too dangerous. They’re just relaying information.”  
  
  
“The usual?” Seokmin asks, reaching around and adjusting the handgun in the back of his waistband. He tugs the jacket back over the weapon, patting his jacket pocket and feeling at his side for his dagger. He glances at Jaehyun for a moment, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. Jaehyun shifts closer to him and carefully squeezes his hand. The smile that Seokmin gives him in response is genuine, and a wave of relief seems to wash over both of them.

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu answers, glancing around. There’s row after row of shipping containers beyond them, organized almost like a maze. The rows must be around forty deep before they actually hit the water itself, a wooden pier leading down to several boats stationed for the night. “We need to get going.”

 

Jaehyun nods at this, motioning for them to take their regular positions. Mingyu heads out first, gun already drawn and slipping into the shadows with ease. After a minute they hear a low whistle and Minghao takes off, melting into the darkness with his sniper draped across his chest. Jaehyun look at Seokmin for a moment, noticing how the high points of his cheekbones catch the silvery bath of the moonlight. He reaches out with one hand, sliding it up Seokmin’s arm and pulling him close. Seokmin looks to him with wide eyes but falls easily into Jaehyun’s grip.

 

“Everything’s going to be okay, you know that right?” Jaehyun murmurs, dragging his thumb over Seokmin’s cheek. He smiles at this, nodding slightly.

 

“It always is,” Seokmin replies easily, reaching up to loop his arms around Jaehyun’s neck. Jaehyun leans in and presses their lips together in a kiss that feels like fire. When they part, Jaehyun feels a new sense of determination under his skin.

 

“Let’s go,” Jaehyun whispers, smoothing the hair out of Seokmin’s eyes before letting his hand fall. He reaches for his own gun, peeking out from behind the shipping container. Seokmin follows suit, and on Jaehyun’s command they make their way through the maze with their weapons drawn. They slip in and out of shadows, tucking close to the metal sides of the containers. Jaehyun catches sight of Mingyu at one point, poking his head from a burnt red container, all rusted and worn.

 

It looks like the color of blood.

 

He gestures to Seokmin, who stays close on his heels with his own gun ready. In a moment, it gleams pure silver in the light, catching Jaehyun’s attention. He glances over at Seokmin when he sees it, the way his face scrunches up in pain.

 

“Baby?” Jaehyun asks, concern seeping into his words. Seokmin grips his head in his hands, letting the gun clatter to the ground. Jaehyun rushes over to him just as he staggers, and he catches Seokmin before he falls.

 

_(“Look, that’s supposed to be the Big Dipper,” Seokmin says, pointing out the constellation. They’re laying in bed, peering out the window to their left. Jaehyun looks in the direction he points in, leaning into Seokmin as he does. The stars shine comfortingly back at them._

 

_“It’s pretty,” Jaehyun says, and Seokmin smiles._

 

_“It’s the only one I can pick out just by looking myself,” Seokmin replies quietly, looking up at the sky with wide eyes. Jaehyun thinks about this for a moment, before looking right at Seokmin._

 

_“I’ll get you a map of the stars.”)_

 

“Seokmin, baby, what’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, holding Seokmin’s face and trying to look in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

 

Seokmin’s hand is shaking when he presses it to the back of his head, directly over his scar. “Something’s wrong,” he replies, voice barely above a whisper. Jaehyun touches the area, fingers brushing against the scar tissue, when he feels the heat radiating off of Seokmin’s skin. He rips his hand back, as if he’s been burned by fire. Suddenly he doesn’t care about the job, his only focus is getting Seokmin help, and he screams.

 

_“Minghao, Mingyu!”_

 

He hears footsteps and in an instant his friends are at his side. Minghao immediately drops to Seokmin’s other side, and Jaehyun directs him to help Seokmin up. Minghao picks up the discarded gun, slipping it in the back of his waistband before taking Seokmin’s arm gently. Jaehyun’s arm is around his waist, leaning most of his weight against him. Mingyu’s gun is still drawn, covering for them as best as they can now that their cover is blown.

 

What comes is far more sinister than a few straggling gang members, what comes is something Jaehyun never expected but always feared.

 

When you live in a police state, you get used to seeing weapons. What you don’t get used to, however, is the sound of screeching tires and pounding footsteps, followed closely by a dozen or more officers infiltrating the maze of shipping containers.

 

 _“Shit,”_ Mingyu says, looking around wildly and squaring his stance. Minghao pulls the rifle from his side, standing in front of Seokmin without hesitation. Jaehyun fumbles for his own gun, raising it with his free hand while he holds Seokmin up with his other.

 

“Jaehyun,” Seokmin whispers, and he can feel Seokmin’s hand curl into the front of his shirt. The fabric sticks from sweat against his skin. “Let me go.”

 

“Are you insane?” Jaehyun hisses, eyes darting from officer to officer. He swallows thickly at the padded vests and semi-automatic weapons pointed in their direction, but stands firm. He can hear his heart beating in his ears, blood rushing throughout his adrenaline-filled body. Seokmin doesn’t pay attention to the officers, instead looking fully at Jaehyun’s profile.

 

“They want me,” Seokmin whispers, “I think they… tracked me.”

 

Jaehyun blinks hard, sparing a glance at Seokmin, who has his hand over the scar on his neck. It all sinks in and he tastes the sour taste of bile in his throat.

 

“No…” Jaehyun replies, shocked. The crackling of feedback interrupts his thoughts.

 

“Subject 726, step forward,” the officer says over the megaphone, tone stern. Seokmin tries to slide out of Jaehyun’s grasp, and he only grips him tighter.

 

“No,” he growls, looking at Seokmin. In his wide eyes, there’s fear— but even more so, there’s love.

 

“Maybe if they take me, they’ll let the rest of you go,” Seokmin says carefully, trying to pull away again.

 

Minghao shakes his head from his spot in front of them. “If they were tracking you this long, they want all of us,” he says gravely, and Mingyu moves to stand on Minghao’s other side. They act as a barrier between Seokmin and Jaehyun and the officers staring them down.

 

“What’s the plan,” Mingyu asks, eyes still trained on the officers. Nobody is lowering their weapons, caught in a sort of purgatory.

 

The stars shine brightly above all of them, and for a moment Jaehyun thinks of Atlas, protecting the stars. His grip on Seokmin’s waist tightens.

 

“We don’t let them take us.”

 

There’s no sound for a minute, just the breathing of the four of them. Jaehyun presses Seokmin as close to his body as he can, and then he nods and it starts. Minghao and Mingyu dart in opposite directions, creating a distraction. Officers immediately attempt to flank them, tearing into the maze of multicolored shipping containers. In the chaos, Jaehyun hauls Seokmin away as best as he can. They hide behind a far row of containers, and Jaehyun looks at Seokmin for a moment.

 

“Can you run?” he asks, concerned. Seokmin rubs the back of his head once more, but there’s no pain in his features. He nods slowly, looking right at Jaehyun.

 

“If you run, I run,” Seokmin says. Jaehyun can hear multiple officers closing in on them. He takes the briefest moment to steal away a kiss before pulling away, urging Seokmin down a far corridor.

 

 _“Go,”_ he urges “I love you.”

 

Seokmin staggers for only a second before correcting himself. The footsteps grow louder, seemingly echoing off every surface in the maze. “I love you, Jaehyun.”

 

And that’s just it, nothing else is needed in that moment. It’s like a fire is lit underneath them both because they take off, weapons raised and legs pumping as fast as they can go. Seokmin is ahead of Jaehyun in this corridor, one that’s darker than most. He can only hear two pairs of footsteps, his own and Seokmin’s.

 

It’s why it comes as a surprise when the officer comes out of nowhere.

 

He’s shouting words Jaehyun can’t make out and charging toward Seokmin, butt of the gun raised to pistol whip Seokmin.

 

Jaehyun picks up speed but he feels like he’s running through quicksand, screaming desperately for Seokmin to dodge and run. He tries, but the officer is faster, blunt edge of the gun smashing into the back of Seokmin’s skull as he turns to head down a different part of the maze.

 

Somewhere, someone is screaming as the blood pools on the concrete.

 

Somewhere, Atlas stumbles and falls, the stars pouring out into the universe.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _**Atlas** — a book of maps or charts._   
>    
>  _**Atlas** — (in Greek Mythology) a Titan cursed to hold up the heavens and stars for eternity_   
>    
>  _**Atlas** — (in Anatomy) the topmost vertebra of the backbone, articulating with the occipital bone of the skull._   
> 
> 
> ˚˚˚
> 
> A huge thank you to johntographique for beta'ing this monster and to ayesha for letting me ramble about this on Discord for like two weeks. I love you both, this wouldn't exist without you. Comments and kudos are appreciated ♡  
> [Fic Twitter](https://twitter.com/pinkwinwin)  
> [Main Twitter](https://twitter.com/truantseeker)  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/pinkwinwin)


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